


More Alike than we Think

by TheNovelNightingale



Category: Mass Effect Trilogy
Genre: Enemies to Friends, Female Shepard - Freeform, Implied/Referenced Suicide, Mass Effect 1, Mass Effect 3, Normandy-SR2, Saren Lives, The Reaper War, talking about suicide
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-16
Updated: 2020-03-16
Packaged: 2021-02-28 22:28:34
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,603
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23084776
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheNovelNightingale/pseuds/TheNovelNightingale
Summary: AU where Saren lives, and is recruited on the Normandy during the Reaper War. Shepard finds him at the ship bar one night. Conversation ensues.
Relationships: Female Shepard/Garrus Vakarian, Saren Arterius & Female Shepard
Kudos: 22





	More Alike than we Think

**The Normandy SR2 Bar 1300 hours**

Saren usually kept to himself, he has his whole life, and not even being on a cerberus vessel with humans would drive him to company, even if it was to confirm that he might have indeed lost his mind. 

Well, he did, once. 

Here he was, almost three years after his ultimate betrayal serving with (not under, with) the very person who was sent after him. The Commander has been...interesting to say the least. he had only heard the stories from his underground cell of her so called death, and so called resurrection, and her own betrayal to the morals she spent months parading around while now waving the colors of human anti-alien terrorists. 

It was interesting gossip. 

Then she blew up the relay, got thousands of Batarians killed, blew up a collector base, and now here we are. 

Saren knew long before anyone else that the Reapers were indeed coming, and still no one would listen. It wasn't a surprise, and Shepard did try to make them see reason. 

Blowing up the relay turned _some_ heads. 

It wasn't until she was outside his cell six months later that he knew she wasn't just ignored, she was desperate. She didn't show it, she actually wanted him to come along. She hadn't known he was still alive until the Reapers hit the human homeworld: Earth. Saren sat back in his small cot, the chains around his wrists and ankles tapping against the frame bolted to the floor. He listened to her offer: a chance for true redemption of what they've done, what they're doing, and to keep them from what they were trying to do. 

Two years in a cell was long enough; the Reapers were the true enemy. 

He killed when given an enemy, and followed orders when they made sense. It was a coincidence that his internal promise was backed by a seemingly competent soldier who gave decent orders. 

The galaxy had changed, but not by much, politics were still very much the same, people too simple minded, not seeing the bigger picture, the bigger enemy until they land right on top of government houses and children's schools leaving nothing left but ash and smoke. 

After several missions Saren would find his downtime on shore leave, when everyone else would leave the ship to pursue some activity. Saren instead was tired of the noise and would take to the quiet bar, sipping a Brandy he hid away for such occasions. 

This time he had company. 

Shepard was a social person, always chatting with crew members, and yet she must have had the same idea of needing alone time since she slipped in the bar late into leave. She wasn't surprised he was there, but if anyone could be silent around her, it was him. 

He wasn't planning on talking if she wasn't. 

With a silent confirmation her presence caused no immediate harm she unsteadily strolled inside, stumbling moving around the bar to shift through the various bottles on the shelves. Her movements were jerky and spastic, the glass brushing against one another with loud clinks that made him wince. The silence of the room, and the illusion of solace, was shattered with it.

Besides the waving smell of alcohol around her, he noticed her face held less color than normal, and dark circles were below her eyes.

She shakily poured herself a drink, nearing the rim. Without looking at him she remained on the other side of the bar and took a large gulp from her glass. She filled it back up to the rim, then hunched over the drink being coddled between both hands. 

Then she spoke. 

"I was told you were a charismatic guy. Figured you would be interested in shore party." 

And there went his peaceful evening. She still wasn't looking at him. Her voice was slightly slurred, a pitch lower than her normal speaking voice. If she wanted sympathy he would give her none. 

"I assume you are hiding away so your generosity isn't taken advantage of once more." 

That hit a nerve, her wince was noticeable. He was speaking of the great Commander Shepard and her willingness to do anything asked of her. Saren could count the number of missions where there was headway to defeating the intergalactic threat on his two hands. 

The irrelevant side quests she takes on went into double digits. 

She did not lash out at his blow, and instead gave a deep sigh, "You got me. Well, normally. Tonight I just wanted some quiet time you know?" 

Saren stared at her instead of replying. The look said it all. She glanced up for one second before returning to her drink with a huff of air, "Right, I ruined your isolation. My bad." 

She stood up straight, picking up the drink and raising it to her mouth, "Could do you some good to not be such a grouch." 

Saren scoffed, "You are in no position to tell me what to do." 

"Except on the battlefield, on the ship, wherever we go and with whatever we are doing," She quipped back, tilting her head to the side so her fire hair spilled down behind her like a curtain. She actually smiled at him, a gesture he always found unnerving. 

"Which means whatever i do on my own time is none of your business." The ex-Spectre was ready to take his bottle and find another quiet space to ponder. There were plenty available for another hour or so. Better that than attempting to make nice with the human. She raised a free hand to stop him before he could move a muscle. 

"You don't need to go. I'm just teasing you. Consider this my check in ok?" 

This did not make the situation sound better. She continued. 

"I check in with all my crew, and since you won't talk to- well anyone, without frightening them, I just want to personally ask you if things are good for continuing the mission." 

"My personal activities will not interfere with the mission," Saren bit the words out defensively. Humans failed to understand Turians and work. So long as work is not effected, anything goes with recreational activities. One of the reasons the 'no fraternizing' rule with the Alliance irked Saren. 

She nodded her head, by now dulled to his snaps. "Just checking. I know we have a weird history and you and they have a weird history..." Her reference to the Reapers was ill hidden. "And we never talked about it. I am certain you don't want to-" 

"I don't." 

"-Theeeeen ok. But know that you have that option." She took a slow gulp of her drink, "You have a choice." She wasn't looking at him to see the brow plate raise on his face, and instead moved around the bar. 

Instead of leaving, she sat down at the seat next to him. She could have at least moved the chair to the right, now she was far too close for comfort, and Saren was now considering leaving again. 

Then the sound of a bottle opening caught his attention, followed by the trickle of liquid flowing into his empty glass. he hadn't noticed finishing it. Turning, he saw Shepard just barely succeeding in refilling his glass with his drink, the bottle left on the counter by him. She gently covered it and put it back without breaking it, or falling out of her chair. He gave a swift nod, not of approval, but some sort of recognition. he did need another drink. 

Silence returned to the bar. No movement or noise except for the occasional lift of the arm to partake in another serving of the adult escape. 

A minute or to passed. 

Beside him Shepard gave off a small noise under her breath. Instead of looking at her he instead glanced to the wall at the mirror to her reflection. 

Whatever thoughts she was thinking caught up to her. Her eyes darkened, looking at nothing, the rim of her glass just barely reaching her lips. 

She spoke again. 

“You’re not the first person to take their life in front of me.” 

Saren said nothing, internally nodding his head in simple understanding. She’s a soldier, she’s seen and done what most haven’t. It’s not much of a surprise her enemies would rather die than deal with the wrath she could bestow on them herself. And if she was as ruthless as he's heard from her resurrection, then the option must have been held favorability. 

What surprised him was she said the complete opposite of his assumptions, “The first one, I couldn’t save. I knew him too, once upon a time. You-” She glanced his way for barely a second, taking a sip of her drink for courage. “You did it for the ends to justify the means yeah?” 

If it was anyone else in another life he would have killed them for prying, and continuing to pry into what he did and why, as it was none of their business. Her probing was becoming irksome. “I did it to rid control from Sovereign.” He growled, had he been mistaken about her understanding of what happened on the Citadel two years ago? 

Shepard swallowed a lump in her throat, still staring at nothing. “In the end it's the same thing. Why you did it. Why he did it. It was to make it stop.” Saren tilted his head to look at her now, slightly confused, she couldn’t possibly understand- “The pain.” She continued without knowing his gaze, “Just wanted it all to _stop_.” 

Apparently Shepard could understand, and Saren would have never thought he’d admit to that before now. On the other hand Shepard was never indoctrinated. He knew nothing of the other person she spoke of, but Saren was very much positive his experience was his own. He broke free of the Reapers, if not momentarily; this was not some sappy story of depression that ended tragic, and he found himself getting angry thinking about it. 

“My experience was my own, I won in the end,” His talons gripped his own drink just a tad tighter. Shepard was not phased. 

“In your own way, sure.” She said deadpan. “But to me it was a failure on my part. I couldn’t save you.” 

“I fail to see what you’re trying to say human.” he was getting agitated, was she trying to get him to talk about what? His feelings? 

Shepard sat up, letting out an exhale of sore muscles and creaking joints. “I just- I get it is all. Didn’t mean to upset you. I’ll drop it.” 

“No.” Saren had reached out to snatch her by the arm as she stood up to leave before even processing it. She stared back at him with disbelief. “You will tell me what you’re playing at. What you had hoped to gain from thinking you know me at all.” He waited for an answer, not releasing his grip. She slowly transferred her glass to her free hand, placing it softly on the counter. When she spoke again her eyes did not meet his own. 

“I almost did it once.” 

The atmosphere twisted into something still and uncomfortable between the two of them in an empty room. All the thousands of wayward ghosts finally stopped screaming for just a moment of the only two people in the galaxy who knew this particular topic on a deeper level. 

“After Cerberus… brought me back. I tried to power through it all, do the job. There was so much at stake. I wasn’t allowed to be anything but what they wanted. I knew I was different, most things were after two years.” Saren held his gaze for her to continue. Shepard hadn’t even fought to be free of his grip, like she accepted it. Being toyed with. 

Being controlled. 

“It started with carelessness. I would scratch my head with the barrel of my gun when I was in a rush. Don’t know why. I was more direct in battle, more hands on. Then it turned to me cleaning my weapons with no one around, holding the gun against my head for… assurance I guess? That I could still be afraid. But I wasn’t.” 

“You wanted to die.” Saren said, his grip on her arm faltering, red marks already indented on her soft skin. He wanted to ask ‘why not do it’. The words never came out. 

A slight bitterness took the edge of her voice, “No. What I wanted didn’t matter then. It was all about the mission, and I had people to keep alive. And with EDI around there was no way I could.” _Do it_ was left unsaid, “Not on the ship anyway.” 

Saren had stumbled upon something more and more apparent Shepard had not told anyone else about. Saren Arterius, disgraced Spectre, was on a Cerberus made ship sitting with a human who chased him across the galaxy years before, and she was confiding in him about a weight she held onto while fighting a war no one had cared about until a few weeks ago. 

She took a deep breath and a sharp exhale, as if the following did not matter. “I did the next best thing. We refueled at Omega and I got shitfaced. After the collectors. I wasn’t celebrating. The crew didn’t know that.” 

Except one, Saren mused. Surely her Turian bodyguard wouldn’t let her do such a thing to herself. Saren has rarely seen him leave her sight, especially when he was around. 

“I threw credits at the bartender and drank whatever the hell he gave me. I’ve never been that wasted before.” An expression of ___ told Saren the request that night fulfilled past expectations. “When I knew it was bad but I could still make choices, I walked out. And I kept walking.” 

A low rumble rattled deep in his chest unintentionally. This was her suicide attempt. Lose control of yourself and let the pit of Omega take you in the darkness. Sloppy. Unlike the simple gunshot Saren had given himself, hers was a cruel gamble. Several missions and detours at that station taught Saren as much with barely a glance: anything could happen to you on the streets, and she obviously hadn’t cared what it was. 

“Garrus found me before things got bad.” A dry chuckle gasped from her lips, and it was haunting. Saren didn’t want the details of what ‘bad’ was- he’s seen enough examples. “He took care of me- lectured me- but took care of me. And the best part was, he never told anyone about it. I wasn’t even mad he figured it out, he’s too smart to be fooled like that.” 

“Why are you telling me this?” The question had been on the tip of his tongue for a while now, and since she was so apparent on sharing, maybe the past ten minutes of his life wouldn't be wasted. 

She rolled her head back and turned to shoot him a wickedly sadistic smile. “I don’t know. I’m drunk, and just felt the need to tell you. Just know that you’re...not alone I guess. That death doesn’t solve it, a tip for this time around yeah?” She moved away from him with some grace not expected from an apparent drunk as she. Shepard placed their glasses in the sink before turning for the door. “If you ever need anything let me know.” Shepard said with her best ‘commander’ tone as her body left the room, leaving Saren alone at the bar once more.


End file.
